


Ways to Communicate

by Jalules



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Blow Jobs, Communication, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Pegging, Polyamory, because blue sargent deserves a million kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8804905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jalules/pseuds/Jalules
Summary: Blue Sargent reflects on an early memory (and gets busy with her boyfriends.)(The two things are related, trust me.)





	

**.**

**.**

**.**

One of Blue Sargent’s earliest and most vivid memories was of a conversation she wasn’t meant to overhear. She had been six, maybe seven, up past her bedtime and tiptoeing down to the kitchen with intentions of refilling her nightly glass of water with chocolate milk when the sound of voices, made unfamiliar in their hushed intensity, stopped her on the stairs. She listened in, curious, as her mother discussed something clearly secretive with Calla and Persephone.

_“_ It doesn’t mean she can never be in love,” Maura had said, and her voice held the pleading edge of someone arguing on behalf of a cause they didn’t entirely believe in.

A clink then, glass against tabletop,  _ “ _ Certainly not,” Persephone’s soft voice said, “Physicality isn’t everything. There are all different elements to a relationship.”

“Hm,” Calla, then, her indignant sniff muffled by a glass raised to lips, another clink as that glass was set down, “ _ Physical _ is the one most people are after though.”

“Not everyone,” Maura again, stern. She must have taken a drink too, because there was a long pause, and when she spoke again she seemed defeated, “But a kiss is so...expected.”

And Blue had shivered, the realization that she was the topic of the secret conversation freezing her to shocked stillness. It wasn’t the first time she had heard the curse discussed, but she had never heard her mother sound so disappointed, so resigned- and it was about her.

“The right person won’t mind the curse,” Persephone had suggested.

“The right person will know how to work around it,” Calla said, her smirk coming through the words loud and clear.

“I suppose” Maura said, sounding tired, “A kiss isn’t everything.”

“Communication,” Persephone said.

“What?” Calla asked, and a breath later, understanding, “Oh. True enough.”

“ _ Communication _ is everything,” Persephone clarified anyway, as if there were someone else at the table to explain too, and somehow Blue knew that Persephone was speaking to her, that her presence had been sensed, “And there are so many ways to communicate.”

Blue took a silent step back, wanting to sneak off to bed before anyone else noticed her eavesdropping, and the floor stayed thankfully quiet and uncreaking. Whatever sarcastic remark Calla made next was out of earshot, though the answering sound of Maura’s laughter made Blue feel a bit better in her retreat.

.

.

 

Blue thought about that memory a lot. Specifically she thought of Persephone’s breathy voice, her optimistic suggestion-  _ there are so many ways to communicate. _

It was truer than Blue would have expected; there were more than just words in the world, and certainly more than just kisses. There were trees that spoke and ghosts who couldn’t. There was the quick, desperate touch of hands and silent glances around supermarket shelves. There were gifts, empty spaces. There were sighs, so many sighs with so many meanings, and there was laughter, harsh, relieved, overjoyed.

Communication was  _ everything _ , and at this point in her life Blue was starting to consider herself something of a communication expert. At least as far as Gansey and Henry were concerned, anyway.

The trick with Henry, it turned out, was that he sometimes lost his words. Blue found it incredible that he was able to speak multiple languages in the first place, so if he temporarily misplaced words from any or all of them from time to time, it didn’t bother her. It tended to only happen in intense moments, anyway; when he was too excited to put a sentence together, when he was frightened or saddened to silence, when his thoughts were moving too fast for his mouth to catch up. 

It happened, occasionally, during sex, Blue had learned.

Sitting on the countertop in the makeshift kitchen at Monmouth, Henry’s back fit snug against her chest and his hand braced against her thigh to stay upright on slippery socked-feet, his own legs already going weak with Gansey knelt between them, Blue suspected that he was tongue-tied.

He still gasped out loud, certainly, when she wound her fingers tight into his hair and coaxed him into tilting his head, giving her room to nip tiny marks along his neck. Words, though- those had become iffy. She substituted a few of her own.

“He’s so pretty on his knees,” She said softly, lips moving just under Henry’s ear. She heard Gansey’s appreciative moan before Henry even breathed in response. She felt his hand shift against her leg, fingers catching in her tights, “Don’t you think, Henry?”

Henry began to speak, managed one half of a word that didn’t sound particularly like English or Korean or anything Blue had ever heard, then stopped himself short. He laughed lightly, though that too was quickly derailed for a whine and a frantic nod.

“Gansey,” Blue said, directing her attention down and smirking at the wet sound of him pulling off of Henry, the absentminded way he wiped at his mouth and looked up at her, delightfully disheveled even as he sat there fully dressed, “You’ve got him speechless.”

The flood of color in Gansey’s face matched the heat in Henry’s skin; Blushing, an act in two parts, and Blue was pleased to be one-third of the cause for both.

“I see,” Gansey said, and cleared his throat, though it did nothing to take the rough-edged evidence of the current situation out of his voice, “I would apologize, but I think I’m too proud at the moment.”

Blue rolled her eyes and loosened her hold on Henry’s hair, petting it down instead, “Don’t get too smug. I bet he’s still  _ thinking _ filthy things about you.”

Henry grinned at that, silent, but the way Gansey shivered when he met his eyes gave Blue the impression that she was right. She carried right along, whispering suggestions of what Henry might be thinking about Gansey’s tousled hair, his spit-slick lips, the sweet sound of his caught breaths. Henry nodded and gripped her thigh and stroked Gansey’s cheek, his chin, his lips after he’d come with a stifled, wordless shout.

They were all quiet for a while then, content.

It wasn’t until later, when Gansey rubbed at his knees and admitted that the kitchen floor was not the most comfortable to kneel on, that Henry found his words again.

“I’ll buy you a velvet cushion,” He offered.

“I’d prefer silk,” Gansey muttered.

“You’re unbelievable,” Blue told them both, and, in case either of them were serious, “Please don’t try to kneel on a silk pillow, you don’t have a third life to cash in when you slip and crack your skull.”

Even if he didn’t have any words for that, Henry definitely had plenty of laughter.

.

.

Gansey was seldom short on words. The trouble was, at times, working out what he was actually trying to say. For example;

“I’m not quite sure how to feel about this,” Which was a very vague statement to throw out in the middle of sex, “It  _ is _ different.”

“Good different or bad different?” Blue asked, hips momentarily stilled while Gansey adjusted to the feeling of a new toy inside him. It was a little too complicated for her liking, with controls that were small, even for her fingers, and a base that she couldn’t seem to position properly against her own body no matter how she adjusted it. Clitoral stimulation? More like strangely dispersed lower body massage.

“Just...really rather different,” He said, offering a shrug as he looked back at her over his shoulder, “I like the size, and the vibration isn’t unpleasant, but it isn’t anything to write home about either.”

“I can hardly feel it,” Blue told him, shrugging back, “It just doesn’t sit right to do the job.”

“I like the buzzing sound,” Henry commented, stretched out comfortably beneath Gansey and contentedly tracing the line of his collarbone.

“I don’t believe you’re on either end of this cock are you?” Blue reminded him, and was treated to Henry’s laugh, Gansey’s embarrassed squirming.

“Jane,” He said softly, as if he might gently complain about her use of foul language.

“No,” Henry admitted, “But I have a lovely view.”

Blue caught his eye over Gansey’s shoulder, admiring the way blown pupils overtook already-dark irises. He winked at her, ridiculously, and even more ridiculously, she blushed.

“So do we leave it on or turn it off?” She asked, directing the question at Gansey, “Or is this one just a bust all around?”

“Tough to say,” Gansey mused, as though it were a topic that needed musing over, “It isn’t bad, but it isn’t a winner. I hate to give up on anything too early, you know. But then again, if it isn’t doing anything for you, Jane, maybe we should throw in the towel, or-”

“A simple yes or no would do,” Blue said, catching him mid-ramble.

“Colors are handy too,” Henry chimed in, “Stoplight style.”

“And I didn’t say it wasn’t doing  _ anything _ for me,” Blue went on, “I do  _ enjoy _ getting you off, y’know.”

“I find that’s the best part,” Henry agreed, “Or at least the most personally satisfying.” 

“Oh for goodness sake,” Gansey cut in, “Forget the vibrator then, just, you know-”

“Yes?” Blue prompted. She couldn’t see Gansey’s expression with him turned away from her, especially not when he buried his face in Henry’s neck out of embarrassment, but she could still hear his answer, muffled though it was.

“ _ Fuck _ me.”

“Direct,” Henry commented, trailing his fingers over Gansey’s shoulder to trace some unknown pattern, “I like it.”

Blue liked it too. She told Gansey as much in a whispered stream of praise, flattening herself against his back as she rolled her hips, finding a steady rhythm that left him whimpering, shaking, coming into Henry’s hand at a feather light touch.

.

.

Blue liked to think she used the right amount of words. Not too few, not too many.

_ Maybe _ too many, since she always seemed to have an answer for things, be it practical or sarcastic. She’d certainly talked herself into trouble before, but she wasn’t bad at talking herself out of it either. She had a habit of talking through sex, too, though, and sometimes she worried it was a little much.

“Is it  _ too _ much?” She asked breathlessly, looking from Gansey, lying back against the couch beneath her, shirt askew, then to Henry, who was still aglow with the delight of discovering that her skirt unbuttoned  _ all _ the way down the side and could be thrown on the floor beside the panties she’d shimmied out of as soon as she got through the front door. 

“I happen to like your running commentary,” Henry told her, hands slipping under the elastic of the lacy bralette she had successfully worn to a Gansey Family Event without raising any eyebrows.

“And I happen to like your kneehighs,” Gansey added, lips brushing Blue’s thigh where she knelt over him. He stroked the fabric over her calves almost reverently.

Henry gasped in mock-surprise, covering Blue’s breasts with his hands as if protecting her modesty, “I can’t believe it,” He whispered to her, “Our dear Dick is a closet pervert,” He scoffed, even as she laughed, “Socks. Honestly.”

“They’re-” Gansey hesitated, searching for the right word, “Cute,” He decided, and cast a glance up at Blue from between her thighs, “May I?”

“By all means,” She said softly, and then his mouth was against her and she was cursing, not so softly.

“Make sure you tell him how he’s doing,” Henry said helpfully, thumbing her nipples and making her shudder. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Blue gasped, less a response and more a wayward exclamation, “Yes, that’s- that’s good,” She continued, sinking her fingers into Gansey’s already mussed hair, “God, your  _ tongue _ , Gansey,” She tried to keep herself steady, not moving her hips too much, but it was a losing battle.

Thankfully Gansey didn’t seem to mind. He was quite at home under her, taking every bit of direction, shivering when his hair was pulled, smiling to himself when she moaned. 

Blue had no qualms about telling them each exactly what she needed. And each of them responded; Gansey to each cry of  _ just like that _ , and  _ right there _ , and  _ so good _ ,  Henry to every  _ fuck yes _ , and  _ dammit you know I’m sensitive,  _ and whines where words disappeared.

They did a stand up job of telling the difference between the two set of directions when she wasn’t addressing them by name, and she told them so, chest heaving, hips bucking, “It’s impressive,” She admitted.

“You’re just that skilled a dictator,” Henry teased, seeking out each of her ribs with the tips of his fingers.

“A tyrant,” Gansey corrected, lips moving against her clit, and the slight touch did her in. 

She shook through orgasm, collapsed back into Henry’s arms, thighs tense and aching when she tried to move back and give Gansey space to breath. He lifted her, just a little, leveraging himself up nearly to sitting. He cleaned his face with the sleeve of his shirt, one that was probably meant to be dry cleaned, and laughed when she kissed him, filthy and exhausted and already a little turned on again.

Henry got the next kiss, pulled in over Blue’s shoulder so she could catch his lips before he started poking fun at her again. With a little more rearranging, Gansey could interrupt, and then it was a several minute game of stealing kisses from one another, squished awkwardly onto the couch together.

Blue thought, as she often did when she was mid-kiss, in the moments that she was not preoccupied with real-life things or simply overwhelmed at the miracle of the fact that all three of them were alive and together, of Persephone’s comment. Communication was everything, and there  _ were _ a lot of ways to communicate.

But, Blue reasoned, she really was glad to finally have the method of kissing available to her.

.

.

.


End file.
